


Bang and Burn

by snarechan



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Action, Adventure, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-23
Updated: 2011-06-23
Packaged: 2017-10-21 04:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarechan/pseuds/snarechan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spy embarks on a daring journey back to base, but for what purpose?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bang and Burn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nri_ennui](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=nri_ennui).



> A request made by Nri around, say...Christmas. >.>; I've been sitting on it for awhile now, school having prevented me from finishing it when I reached the halfway point of the story. Now that I've graduated I was able to jot down the ending, add some finishing touches and had the good fortune of Keppiehed editing it.

“Is there something I can help you with, sir?” the stewardess asked, bending over to flash Spy an ample glance down her partially unbuttoned blouse. Through experienced control, he refrained from lifting an eyebrow at her obvious tactics, but instead provided her a charming smile.

“Ah, _oui_ , as a matter of fact, a drink would suffice. Your best champagne, if you please.”

“Are you in a celebratory mood?” she inquired, straightening and heading in the direction of the bar. Her hips swayed with a purposeful swagger, and willing to oblige her in this game, he gave her behind a playful slap, warranting him a gasp and smoldering look.

“As a matter of fact, yes, you could say that.”

“Do you wish to partake of your in-flight steak dinner now then, sir? We have a fine selection of red wines that would complement our finest beef.”

“ _Non_ , I do not think I will be on this flight for very long to enjoy it,” Spy admitted.

“Oh, but I must protest, sir. It’s our specialty, and the taste is to die for.”

Her stance shifted subtlety, under the guise of flashing her skirt higher, but Spy knew what to look for. His movements were in perfect sync to her own, catching the throwing knife – barehanded, between index and middle finger – when the assassin aimed for his head. The blade was twirled once to readjust his grip before he tossed it back, the knife embedding in her throat. The woman died with a wet gurgle and thumped to the floor of the private plane.

“Your technique needed some work, _Madame Mademoiselle_ ,” he said conversationally to the corpse, adjusting his tie as he walked over the body and to the cockpit. “I’m afraid I’m immune to your feminine allure.”

In record-setting time, he’d disposed of the pilot and co-pilot in a similar, slashing fashion, though he used his own personal blade to put the two individuals out of their misery. While the autopilot _tragically_ short-circuited in a non-sapping accident, Spy returned to his seat to take out his belongings from the overhead bin. As he opened the compartment, he removed his suitcase and the other dead body he’d already stashed there: the person his chauffeur from the last city he’d visited, whose sting operation had also failed. Sometimes it was difficult to find good help.

He hurried now, the plane beginning its decent, and tugged the extra body out to shove into his seat. Spy wanted to be sure that, should the aircraft be noted as missing and rediscovered, _four_ bodies would be found. With that matter settled, he donned a parachute, secured his grip on the briefcase, and leapt out the emergency hatch.

The plane made a spectacular splash miles off the coastline he landed on as a black car idled nearby for his arrival. A man in matching attire waited for him.

“Hullo,” his fellow spy greeted, straightening from his faux-relaxed position against the vehicle. “The wind is most strong today."

“Blame the migrating salmon.”

“Good to see you made it,” the spy said, acknowledging him properly after exchanging coded dialogue.

Spy grinned and pulled out his cigarette case to pluck one for a light, but the man was ready and offered one of his own.

“ _Merci_. I take it my arrangements are set?”

“As requested.”

“Excellent,” he said, walking to the driver’s side door. “Then there is but one last matter of business.”

Before he could wonder what that was, Spy pulled out his Ambassador and shot him in the chest – twice, for good measure. Soon after, the man’s uniform changed colors, revealing him for the enemy that he was. Plucking the cigarette from his mouth, Spy tossed the still-lit cigarette towards him. It left a terrible taste in his mouth.

“I hope for your company’s sake the next amateur knows better than to buy the wrong brand when crossing me,” he muttered, at last getting in the car and driving off.

Spy had twenty miles of coastline to cover until his next checkpoint, with barely enough time to reach it. He floored the gas pedal, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. He lamented the fact he couldn’t enjoy the scenery so much; the day was beautiful, but the looming deadline and the nondescript, black speedsters coming up behind him would not permit Spy that luxury.

He maintained his speed, allowing them to catch up. Two passed him, one pulling ahead and the other stationed to the side. The last kept to his bumper. The one matching him mile for mile was easy to dispose of – Spy rammed into it three times in rapid succession, killing the passenger sporting a gun and causing the driver to lose control and crash into the vehicle behind.

That left the final car in front, which opened fire. Spy swerved to avoid the brunt of the assault. His own car began to protest at the treatment, bullet holes joining the scrapes and dents. The window shattered with a couple shots. At a sharp bend in the road, Spy accelerated, plowing both vehicles through a guardrail.

Being a convertible, Spy had no issues jumping out and grabbed the briefcase from the passenger seat. The cover of the vehicle was actually a hang glider that allowed him to smoothly descend on an outgoing vessel. Spy examined his pocket watch, a dissatisfied frown marring his face when he calculated that he was late for catching his intended escape transport, though it’d worked in his favor.

He landed on light feet. No one noticed his presence as he slipped on board from the roof wearing a disguise. The cruise ship was filled with families, tourists and honeymooners that Spy maneuvered through.

“Ah, Doctor, it is good to see you!” a man, the captain specifically, greeted him. A hand clamped down on his shoulder and Spy hid his surprise well, not expecting to be found so soon.

“I am glad to see you in such good health, _Herr Commandant_.”

“Yes, yes, you as well! Come, let us sit and eat. We have much to discuss.”

“Indeed,” Spy agreed, adjusting his jacket as they meandered to a dining area inside, where the service was swift and efficient.

“I do not wish to keep you, so shall we get down to business? I understand you are on a deadline.”

“ _Ja_ , that would be wise. I trust you have what I seek?”

“Of course – provided you have what I requested,” the gentleman said, snapping his fingers and motioning to a barista behind the rear beverage counter. She nodded and approached, handling a small box on a tray. The man accepted it and signaled her away.

Spy presented the suitcase, undoing the multiple catches and locks to reveal a collection of assorted bills that added up to half a million. The man discreetly inspected one of the bundles for authenticity and nodded his approval when he confirmed that the cash was legitimate. Closing the case, he exchanged the container for the briefcase and motioned that Spy could take his leave.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you, Doctor. It’s my hope that we may do so again.”

“The pleasure was all mine, I assure you,” Spy said, pocketing the tiny case. He rose to his feet and moved toward the same entrance they’d first passed through. With the transaction complete, he saw no reason to continue the ruse and lit a cigarette on his way out. He noted that the captain didn’t see reason to fake pleasantries, either, as he whispered to two men dressed in dark suits; each man watched in Spy’s direction as their officer gave them instructions.

He ignored them and the explosion that followed his exit dealing with the three men. The resulting commotion provided ample cover. He changed cloaks amongst a flurry of screaming passengers, assuming the most loathsome, disgusting and unobtrusive form to blend in – that of a sniper. Spy chose a vacated lounge chair – there were now many to pick from, as some people had hastily escaped – and reclined, tipping his hat across his face in preparation for a well-deserved rest. It would take a few hours yet until the cruise docked; possibly sooner, thanks to the captain’s unfortunate accident.

And he was correct, as predicted – the earlier arrival landed him at his destination in time to catch the train traveling toward 2Fort with minutes to spare. Spy boarded alongside three fresh recruits: two Heavies and a Scout. He was less than thrilled at the prospect of sharing a car with three times the imbeciles, but he’d dealt with worse.

Besides which, he could always appreciate a couple of inept card players to replenish his pockets. Despite his abundant salary, his specific tastes often ran expensive. He had a lifestyle to maintain. By the time the train had arrived, he could more than afford it.

“Congratulations, gentlemen,” he said to his compatriots, though the term was used loosely. The glowers he received indicated he’d made enemies rather than teammates, but he thought it inconsequential.

“For what?” Scout demanded, leaping off the last step of the train and onto the platform.

“Why, to our humble 2Fort, the headquarters of barren wastelands, questionable architecture and not a decent bath amongst our ranks. How fortunate for you to arrive in the middle of a scuffle.”

One of the heavies appeared eager by the news, while the other seemed oddly resigned for someone chosen to fill his position.

Scout, like all his predecessors, was mouthy to a fault. “Yeah, well, good. Bashing heads in is what I came for.”

The boy brandished a baseball bat that he’d strapped to his person. It seemed weather-beaten and had a faint autograph on it, as if it’d already seen good use.

Spy, too, looked forward to the conflict ahead and bid his teammates farewell. He left toward the locker rooms while the new arrivals went to check in and be briefed on the situation. As soon as he entered the battlefield, he vanished in a plume of smoke, searching the area and disposing of a Demo or Soldier along the way.

Metal banging against metal lured his attention, and Spy made his way closer. A RED Engineer was constructing a sentry near his team’s point, between two possible access areas, but secluded in a way that would prevent detection until it was too late for the enemy. Provided they were _amateurs,_ which Spy was not. Without making a sound, he approached Engineer from his blind spot and removed the box from his inner coat pocket, activating the device inside and sliding it under the man’s sentry.

The gun began to spark and tremble in place; its barrel fired rapid shots into the wall positioned above a nearby door. Engineer yelped at the display, shielding his face with his gloved hand as the machine shut down in a show of smoke and flames. When it was safe to inspect the situation, Engineer glanced from his weapon to the multiple holes it made in the surface in front of him, the bullets having shot a pattern into it: HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, _MON SUCRE D’ORGE_.

Engineer’s face reddened and he tossed his tools angrily to the ground, whirling around to where Spy had made an appearance. He was leaning against the wall adjacent to the point, the Announcer’s voice ringing in the background.

“ _Spah!_ ”

The anger that brought out the RED Engineer’s accent caused Spy to laugh, and though he knew the answer he could not resist asking, “Did you miss me?”

He disappeared moments before a spray of gunfire from a sawed off shotgun could send him to respawn. Spy would have preferred to continue the exchange, but settled for making his epic escape instead.

-Fin-


End file.
